The Saddest Christmas Song
by fortheloveofbuttercups
Summary: Lucy and Wyatt debate which Christmas song is the saddest, making discoveries about themselves along the way. Lyatt friendship and fluff and romance and Christmas goodness.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: I'm not sure what this is, but it popped into my head and had to be written. It'll be a short one- 2-4 chapters. Hope you enjoy! Reviews are lovely and welcome!_

* * *

Lucy had quietly excused herself from the festivities more than half an hour ago, the revelry and partying proving to be a bit too much too soon. Her legs dangled high above the warehouse floor from her perch atop the catwalk. The Lifeboat seemed so small from that high up.

The music from the downstairs conference room drifted up and echoed around her, allowing a peaceful, if melancholy, atmosphere. She wrapped an arm around the cool, metal post beside her as the next song's first notes began.

And her heart clenched.

It was difficult for Wyatt to maintain a silent approach when his boots were so loud on the metal walkway. He wasn't sure if she'd heard him, as she seemed very lost in thought. Or sad. Or, perhaps, a bit of both.

"I hate this song."

She said it so softly that he wasn't sure if it was directed at him or just a comment to herself. He eased down next to her, far enough that they weren't touching, but close in case either of them needed a physical reassurance of some sort.

"This song?"

"It has to be the saddest Christmas song ever."

He scrunched up his face. "Really?"

She slightly shrugged. "Maybe it's the tune. I don't know. It's just always felt sad to me, even if the words say otherwise." She paused and lightly scoffed. "Feels even sadder now after...time travel and..." She waved her hand around at the warehouse. "...all of this."

He listened as Sinatra's smooth, soft voice echoed around them.

 _Here we are as in olden days_

 _Happy golden days of yore_

 _Faithful friends who are dear to us_

 _Gather near to us once more_

He gave a slight shake of his head and crooked a smile. "It does seem kind of...ironic."

She leaned her head against the post. "Sometimes, I wish I didn't know the things I do."

He laughed softly and gave a tiny, "Yeah."

 _Through the years we all will be together_

 _If the Fates allow_

 _Hang a shining star upon the highest bough_

His hand automatically reached for hers in her lap. She never looked up, but kept her gaze fixed and unfocused on an imaginary spot near the Lifeboat below them.

"Did you know those weren't the original lyrics?"

His fingers slowly intertwined with hers. It was meant to be a comforting gesture, maybe for them both, but he wasn't sure if the message was getting through.

"Which ones?"

"Most of them. The song was written before the end of World War I and had a very wartime feel to it. The original lyrics were even sadder and when the song was going to be used in the film _Meet Me in St. Louis_ , Judy Garland protested and said she couldn't sing such a sad, depressing song to her character's heart-broken little sister."

"What were the original lyrics?"

She paused, deciding if she wanted to sing them or not. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, which was just the courage she needed.

" _Have yourself a merry little Christmas; It may be your last. Next year we may all be living in the past_."

Wyatt raised his eyebrows and shook his head. "Wow."

Lucy nodded. "Yeah. The original last line isn't very uplifting either."

"How bad?"

She gave a small smile and let her thumb graze the back of his hand.

" _Someday soon, we all will be together, if the Fates allow. Until then, we'll have to muddle through somehow_." She paused and glanced down at their hands before softly continuing. "You can still find the original Judy Garland version that contains that last line. She wanted to keep it because of what it meant to soldiers during the war."

Wyatt nodded. "I can understand that." He watched as her thumb gently drew tiny, random patterns across the back of his hand. She still hadn't looked up at him. He summoned all his courage and let the small chill wash away. He kept his eyes on her as he quietly sang, " _So, have yourself...a merry little Christmas...now_."

She turned and, keeping her head against the post, gave a lazy half-smile. "Still don't think it's the saddest song?"

He laughed lightly but sobered quickly. "No. There was always one that really got to me, especially when I was overseas."

"Which one?"

He paused and swallowed a bit, unsure if he could actually get it out.

" _I'll Be Home For Christmas_. It was definitely the worst song to hear on base. Because we all knew it was true. When you're in the middle of a desert, three thousand miles from home, with the enemy at your doorstep..." He shook his head, a vain attempt to knock the memories back into their proper hiding place.

Lucy nodded a bit sympathetically. " _If only in my dreams_."

He took a deep breath. "Exactly. Which is what it was most of the time. I...missed out on so much. And to hear that stupid, depressing song just made it all worse." He hesitated. "And after Jess, that song was just..."

"The saddest song."

He grimaced and nodded. "Yep."

They sat there quietly, allowing the last few moments to sink in. Sinatra finished his song downstairs and a newer, more upbeat Christmas tune floated to their perch near the rafters. Their thumbs took turns lazily grazing on each other's hands.

"Do you want to get out of here? I'm not really in the mood to socialize and party, but I could definitely go for some pie right about now."

He grinned and gently nudged her. "You don't exactly seem like the baking type."

"Ha! I'm not. But there's a great little diner not far from here that has the best lemon pie."

He stood and, still holding her hand, pulled her to her feet. "Well then. Who am I to say no to the best lemon pie?"

She threw her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, whispering in his ear.

"Thank you, Wyatt."

He furrowed his brow.

"For what?"

"For...everything." She pulled away slightly, keeping him at arm's length. She shook her head and looked at him with such awe and wonder. "You could be downstairs partying it up with Rufus and Jiya and...everyone. Or you could've gone somewhere else, a bar, or home or...anywhere. But instead..." She paused and took a slightly deeper breath than she realized she needed. "...you're here." She wanted to add _with me_ , but she couldn't. Not yet.

He grinned and shrugged. "No place I'd rather be."


	2. Chapter 2

Lucy stared out through the fake snow window clings at the light traffic zipping past the small diner. For a brief moment, she allowed herself to pretend the snow was real. And for an even smaller moment, she allowed herself to pretend the company was more than what it was.

Wyatt sat across from her in the small booth, two huge slices of the best lemon icebox pie, and two equally good cups of coffee, between them. They ate slowly, savoring each bite, and, perhaps, both attempting to extend the night as much as possible. They'd left Lucy's car at Mason Industries, the idea being they'd both have to drive back by there on each of their ways home, "so, why not just take one car?" he'd suggested with a shrug.

Since it was the night before Christmas Eve, they had their pick of seating options in the nearly empty diner. He'd chosen the booth near the back, to allow for a bit more privacy, even though there was barely a handful of people in the place. Soft Christmas music echoed from the vintage jukebox across the room.

Lucy set her fork down and leaned her head back against the cushioned booth. She allowed her mind to drift for a moment to the last time she ate lemon pie. A few days before Christmas last year, Amy had swung by the university to pick her up after her last class of the semester. It had become their tradition. Just the two of them, last minute Christmas shopping, a movie, and this diner's lemon pie. Lucy closed her eyes and smiled at the bittersweet memory. A finger snap brought her back to reality as she opened her eyes to see a quizzical and concerned Wyatt across from her, his hand still in the space between them above the table, fingers at the ready to snap again, just in case.

"Earth to Lucy. You okay?" He lowered his hand to his fork and cocked his head.

She smiled slightly, ducking her head. "Yeah, I'm…I'm fine. Sorry. Guess I just…drifted off for a second."

He picked up his fork and scoffed as he took the last bite of his pie. "Seemed longer than that. I was calling your name for a while there."

He was so concerned, so… _Wyatt._

A brief blush spread across her torso and quickly up to her chest, neck, and face. She shook it off and smiled. "Sorry. I was just…remembering something."

"What?"

She waved her hand. "It's nothing."

He shook his head. "No, it definitely _was_ something." He paused, unsure if he wanted to ask. "What is it?"

Lucy looked to her hands in her lap for a moment, suddenly embarrassed at what she was about to admit.

"I was just…thinking of the last time I had lemon pie." She looked up at him, smiling slightly as she shrugged a shoulder. "We used to always go shopping the week before Christmas, a day or two with just the three of us. But after mom got sick…" Lucy paused, taking a small breath and looking out the window, "…Amy and I could only be away from her for a little while. So, she'd pick me up after my last lecture for the semester and we'd go to a few of our favorite stores, picking out each other's presents. Because…I mean, we really only had each other. Mom was…I mean, I bought her a blanket and some things to…stay warm…" Lucy's voice softened and her gaze drifted back to her hands in her lap. "Amy and I would always end up here. She loved their fried chicken and mashed potatoes. And we'd always both get -"

"- lemon pie."

She glanced up at him, a half-smile on her face.

"Yeah." She reached for her fork, mindlessly moving the crumbs around on her plate. "Guess I was just feeling nostalgic tonight."

Wyatt nodded, understanding perfectly. He dropped his gaze and grasped the handle of his coffee mug, gently moving it a couple of times. He took a deep breath.

"I remember my first Christmas without Jess." He said it so softly, Lucy was sure she didn't hear him correctly. She held her breath, waiting to see if he'd continue. He scoffed lightly. "Well, I kind of remember it." He glanced up sheepishly at her.

She smiled, knowingly. "Drunk?"

"A lot of tears and even more whiskey." He shook his head and took a swig of his coffee.

Lucy watched him. She wanted to move to that side of the booth, pull him close, and tell him everything would be okay. She wanted to hold him and push away his pain and doubt and fear. Of course, a part of her hoped that in doing so, her fears and anxieties would also disappear.

"Tell me it gets better."

Her voice was soft and small.

He grimaced and looked out the window.

"Better? No."

She took a deep breath and nodded slowly. "Yeah. Figured."

"But," he looked at her and gave a small smile, "easier? Yes."

She smiled as a familiar tingle tickled its way through her core and spread out her limbs. She automatically wrapped her arms around herself as the waitress, a middle-aged gray haired woman named Debbie, appeared at their table, placing the check face-down and gathering the empty plates. Lucy remembered the woman from all of the times she'd been in the tiny establishment with Amy. And before Lucy could properly think, she'd opened her mouth.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Debbie, that should've been two checks."

Make that opened her mouth and inserted her foot.

Wyatt's hand had already reached for the piece of paper on the end of the table. But his hand stilled as soon as Lucy uttered those words. He was a bit irritated and slightly hurt.

"Lucy, it's fine. I've got it." He continued to pick up the check, but Debbie stopped him, placing her hand on the paper.

"Oh, I'm sorry about that, sweetie. I just…well, I just assumed…you know, that you two…well, that you're…"

Realization dawned on Lucy's face.

"Oh! No, we're not…we're not together. We're just friends."

Wyatt's eyebrows shot up and he scoffed, a reaction that didn't go unnoticed by Lucy. _Or_ Debbie.

"Oh. Okay. Well, again, I'm so sorry, I can divide this right up. Guess that's what I get for assuming!" She sweetly, and a bit awkwardly, laughed and tried to pick up the check, but Wyatt was faster.

"No need to apologize, ma'am. I'll take care of it. Thank you though."

Lucy stared at him, guilt pooling in her gut and a wave of embarrassment washing over her.

Debbie nodded but looked one last time between the two in the booth. "Okay, then. If you're sure?"

Lucy looked up at the woman and smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Yes, thank you."

Debbie walked away, quietly checking on her other customers.

Then, Lucy heard it. Faint at first, but she and Amy had listened to enough Christmas music in their lives for her to know that song. She held her breath and watched him as the first few notes drifted through the diner.

As if the night couldn't get any worse.

Wyatt stared at the bill for a moment. But, he wasn't really looking at it, Lucy noted. More like he was staring _through_ it. His jaw clenched and he sighed. He pulled out his wallet and fumbled through it, hastily pulling out a twenty dollar bill and tossing it on the table. He swallowed thickly, then suddenly stood and put on his jacket. "You ready to go?"

"Wyatt, we don't have to -"

"I'll just meet you at the car, okay?"

His voice was softer, almost timid. He wasn't angry. He just seemed suddenly…distant. And scared.

"Okay."

Lucy watched as Wyatt stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets and walked away, out the door and to his jeep. She sighed taking a quick swig of her cooled coffee, a bit of liquid courage. Standing, she threw on her jacket and grabbed her purse. She walked to the front of the diner, awkwardly waving goodbye to Debbie. As she opened the door, the bell jingling, signaling her departure, his most hated phrase echoed into the cool night air.

 _If only in my dreams_

She opened the passenger door and hopped in. He'd already started the engine, but waited for her to buckle her seatbelt before putting the vehicle in drive. She needed to say something. She _wanted_ to say something. Apologize or…something.

"I'll take you back to Mason so you can get your car."

She nodded as he put the car in drive and pulled away. This wasn't how the night was supposed to go. Of course, she honestly didn't know what she expected to happen. All she knew was that she'd been dreading Christmas and the days surrounding it for a while. When it looked like Amy wasn't coming back anytime soon, she immediately thought of how tough it was going to be to get through this time of year. But what she hadn't given much thought to was how tough it was for Wyatt. Even years later, it still hurt him to hear the first few notes of a melancholy Christmas song. A song that, to much of the world, was simply a bittersweet tune of hope during the most cherished time of year.

He pulled into Mason Industries's parking lot and stopped his jeep next to her car. The lot was almost empty, most of the party goers already gone home, or elsewhere, for the night. Lucy unbuckled and began to open her door, but turned slightly to look at him. Wyatt kept his gaze out the front of the vehicle.

"Wyatt, I…I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said -"

"It's okay, Lucy. I'll just talk to you later, okay?"

She very reluctantly nodded and got out of the vehicle, closing the door and walking around the front of his jeep, blinking in the bright headlights, to her driver's side door. She opened her door and turned to give a wave but Wyatt was already driving away. Lucy got in her SUV and closed the door, placing her hands on the steering wheel and letting her head fall forward. Thankfully, the hotel she'd been staying at wasn't too far because her brain was much too muddled to survive a longer drive.

She tried to hold them back as she started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot, but as soon as the first tear rolled down her face, she knew it was pointless to resist the rest. So, she let them fall all the way to the hotel.

It'd be a few years later before she learned that, on that very same night, he couldn't hold back his own tears either.


	3. Chapter 3

_Christmas Eve_

Lucy rolled over, pulling the large, fluffy, white duvet with her. She'd tossed and turned most of the night, never truly able to fall into a restful sleep. She replayed the night over multiple times in her head, second guessing everything she said and did. She didn't want to be alone. That was her driving motivation, or so she told herself. She couldn't bear to face this holiday without Amy. It's not like she was trying to replace Amy with Wyatt. That wasn't it at all. She wanted to let him in the only way she knew how: by sharing their tradition with him. But she'd ruined it. She'd ruined everything.

She glanced at the clock. It was already 9AM. She'd pretty much decided over the last hour or so that she would order room service and catch up on Netflix for the next couple of days. If she stayed in the cocoon that was her hotel room, maybe Christmas would stay far, far away.

She'd just closed her eyes, intent on trying to sleep away the rest of the morning, when there was a soft knock at the door. One eye popped open. Had she already ordered room service? Maybe they'd leave it outside and go away.

"Lucy?"

It was faint and muffled through the door, but she'd come to know that beautiful voice anywhere.

 _His_ voice.

"Wyatt?" She sat up, throwing back the covers and stepping into her slippers. She grabbed her robe from the nearby chair and hurriedly put it on as she walked to the door, standing on her tiptoes to see through the peephole. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets, a nervous habit, she'd eventually learn. She slowly opened the door, allowing it to keep her partially hidden, and held on to the doorknob for dear life.

He smiled sheepishly.

"Hey."

And her heart did a tiny somersault.

"Hey."

He took a small step forward.

"Lucy, about last night -"

She held up her hand.

"I'm sorry, Wyatt. I just…wasn't thinking and-"

"No, Lucy, _I'm_ the one who's sorry. I let…my emotions…get the best of me and it ruined what _had_ been a pretty good night. Can you please forgive me?"

She couldn't believe it. All night long she was worried about ruining his evening and thinking of ways she could apologize and make it up to him. Yet, here he was, standing in front of her in all his beautiful, handsome glory, apologizing for _his_ behavior. She shook her head and gripped the doorknob tighter, leaning into it, causing the door to open just a little more.

"Of course, Wyatt. But I honestly don't think you're the one who needs to be asking for forgiveness. I wasn't myself last night. I _haven't_ been myself for a while. Life is just…a lot…right now. And when she thought that we were…I mean, it's not like I haven't thought about…" She paused, sighed, and briefly closed her eyes, a futile attempt to steady herself. "What I'm trying very poorly to say is…please forgive me, too?"

He laughed gently as a smile lit up his face. He nodded once, a silent affirmation of his acceptance. The moment lingered between them and Lucy considered inviting him in. He cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck.

"So, um, do you…have plans for today?"

Should she mention the Netflix and forget she'd planned for herself?

"Not really."

"Yeah, me either…" He glanced down, summoning all his courage. Taking a deep breath, he looked back up at her and gave a hopeful half-smile as he shoved his hands farther into his pockets. "Want to not have plans together?"

Her heart, and stomach, did flips.

She grinned. "Sure."

* * *

A while back, after a long day's journey into the past, Lucy had introduced Wyatt and Rufus to a little cafe, tucked away in a new up-and-coming area not far from downtown, that had the best chocolate crepes she'd ever tasted. She and Wyatt spent much of the morning and early afternoon at that tiny cafe eating crepes and perusing the nearby shops. They checked out all of the Christmas decorations, the hustle and bustle of the last minute shoppers, and just generally enjoyed being in each other's company.

Her heart skipped every time his hand brushed ever so subtly against hers as they window shopped, especially when he stopped to point out something and shouted, "That's so cool!," reminding her of a boy and his toys on Christmas morning. Every now and then, she'd catch him staring at her and smiling. She finally returned the smile, but quickly ducked her head and glanced away. When she did, a small glittery object in a nearby window caught her eye and she moved in for a closer look. Wyatt followed as she carefully, and lovingly, studied the beautiful diamond and blue topaz snowflake necklace.

He smiled. "See something you like?"

She shook her head and turned to him. "Just admiring." He smirked but his attention was quickly diverted to something over her shoulder in the shop. She turned to see what had caught his attention as he walked around her to examine the object more closely. It was a gorgeous pearl handled Swiss Army knife. She didn't much care for those things, but even she had to admit it was the prettiest knife she'd ever seen. She smirked. "See something _you_ like?"

He grinned. "Just admiring."

They moved along down the street, looking in every shop window and ignoring the rush of both people and traffic. It wasn't long, however, before Lucy's stomach growled. Loudly. She put a hand to her midsection and blushed. "Sorry. Guess I didn't eat enough crepes."

He laughed. "I find that hard to believe." She feigned hurt and gently slapped him on the arm. He looked around and saw the perfect solution. "Hey, want to split a funnel cake?"

Her face lit up. "Yes! I _love_ funnel cakes!"

She found a spot on a nearby bench while he bought the sweet, doughy, powdered sugary goodness. A couple of street musicians played nearby, their dulcet, soothing Christmas songs filtering through the atmosphere around her. Wyatt soon joined her and they ate in blissful, contented silence, oblivious to the many Christmas shoppers moving hastily around them.

Lucy took a breath.

"Wyatt?" He turned to her, a quizzical expression on his face at her sudden seriousness. "I know we've put last night behind us, but…I just want to say…again…I'm so sorry that I upset you. You know I would never intentionally hurt you."

He looked down, staring at the shrinking pile of sweet dough, and sighed.

"It's…well, it's not okay, but I know you didn't mean it. I'm just…still working through things. And, to be honest, it just bothered me how quickly you could dismiss us being together." He paused, pulling a piece of dough and squishing it between his fingers. "It just seemed like the idea of, you know, _us_ was…repulsive."

Lucy's mouth fell open.

"Wha—? Wyatt, it's not that I…I mean, not that I've thought about it…I, well, I guess I kind of have…but not like us _together_ together, you know? Not that that wouldn't be great, it's just. Well, it's more like…" She paused to catch her breath and spit out the topic she'd been trying to avoid. "I just know you're still mourning Jessica. And…I don't know how to…proceed."

Wyatt nodded slowly in understanding as a long silence fell between them. His voice was gentle and optimistic when he spoke.

"Let's just not forget about… _possibilities._ "

Lucy smiled. The words hung in the air between them as the musicians softly began to play a peaceful rendition of _Silent Night_.

They ate quietly for a while, the funnel cake nearly half gone. Wyatt watched as Lucy pulled a rather large piece of funnel cake off. As she very ungracefully tried to eat it, some of the powdered sugar got plastered to the side of her mouth.

He snickered. "Uh, Lucy?"

"Hmm?" She turned to him, unaware of the white streak along her lower cheek and next to her mouth.

Wyatt held back a laugh. "You've got something…" He pointed to his cheek.

Her eyes widened. "Oh! Thanks." She reached up and wiped at her face, but instead of removing the powdered sugar, she actually smeared it closer to her mouth. "Did I get it?"

He closed his eyes and laughed. "Um, not…really."

She took a napkin and attempted to wipe it off, which she did. All except one tiny spot right above the corner of her lip. She turned to him. "How about now?"

It was happening before either of them knew it. He leaned in but stopped just enough that his nose brushed against hers. He looked at the white sugary goodness above her lip and automatically licked his own lips. She gasped softly and held her breath. He began to move closer when suddenly a horn honked loudly behind them, causing them both to jump. They each smiled, embarrassed, as Lucy stood.

"I saw a public restroom around the corner. I'm just going to go get cleaned up. I'll be right back."

She quickly darted away. Wyatt tossed the rest of the funnel cake in a nearby trash can, licking his fingers and wiping his hands on a couple of napkins. He shook his head, grimaced and sighed.

Lucy finished washing her hands, as well as wiping her mouth, and exited the restroom. She stopped short as she headed back to the bench. She suddenly had a thought. Checking to make sure Wyatt's back was to her, she turned, walking a little way down the street and into a shop.

"Can I help you?" An older man with salt and pepper hair, wire-rimmed glasses, and a lovely smile greeted her near the door.

"Yes, I'd like to see that please." She pointed to an item in a case near the window. The man smiled and nodded, walking to retrieve the item.

A few moments later, Lucy exited the shop and headed back to Wyatt. He stood when he saw her coming. "Ready to go?"

A pang hit her stomach. No, she wasn't ready to go. That meant…well, it meant it was only 4PM and she'd have to go back to her lonely hotel room. And she wasn't ready to say goodbye to him just yet.

But she also had no other suggestions. She just knew it was Christmas Eve and she didn't want to be alone. Not this year.

Not _any_ year.

She nodded, deflated. "I guess."

It was a quick and quiet walk back to his jeep and an even quieter ride back to her hotel. As Wyatt pulled in and parked, a bellhop quickly came to open Lucy's door. Wyatt turned to Lucy, a bit unsure of what he was about to ask. She smiled at the bellhop and exited the Jeep.

"Do you think," he began as she turned around, "maybe…you could be at my place around 7?"

"What?"

"My apartment. Tonight. I'll make dinner."

Her mouth fell open. And closed. And opened again.

"Uh…sure."

Wyatt beamed. "Okay."

The bellhop closed the door as Wyatt drove off.

Lucy stood fixated to where his car had just been. The corner of her mouth turned up slightly.

"Okay."


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: So sorry for the delay in posting this. I'd planned on completing this during the past week but sickness and work kept me from it. Thank you so much to all for the kind reviews and messages. I had a lot of fun writing this little story and hope to write more holiday fics with Wyatt and Lucy in the future. Thanks again for reading and I hope you enjoy!_

* * *

Lucy smoothed down her hair one last time before knocking on Wyatt's door. She adjusted, and readjusted, her sweater and earrings. If her mother were there, she'd tell her to stop fidgeting. She couldn't help it. It'd been a nervous habit for Lucy since birth.

Wyatt soon opened the door, flashing a wide smile.

"Hey."

She returned her own beaming smile. "Hey." He opened the door wider and motioned for her to come in. The smell hit her first and she turned to him, a curious expression on her face. "Is that…spaghetti?"

He grinned. "Yes, ma'am. The best Christmas Eve Texas spaghetti you'll ever taste."

She laughed. His southern drawl came out even more whenever he mentioned his home state.

Wyatt walked back to the kitchen and Lucy slowly followed. She glanced around his small place and noticed he didn't have any Christmas decorations. Not a single one. He had, however, set the small kitchen table, the plates and napkins and silverware all perfectly arranged. He even had lit a couple of candles and had a bottle of wine chilling on the table. His laptop was open on the kitchen counter, Christmas music softly playing from his Spotify account. She was definitely impressed, but she tried not to let it show. She watched him fill two plates with noodles and a ladle or two of sauce.

"Can you grab those two glasses of wine on the counter behind you? Everything else is on the table." She picked up the glasses and walked over to the table, setting them down and taking a seat as Wyatt placed the plate of spaghetti in front of her. He put the second plate of pasta on his side of the table and also took a seat. "Oh! Wait." He jumped up and quickly moved to the light switch on the wall. "Just a second." His hand slowly turned the dimmer until the candlelight was the only glow in the small room. He moved back to his seat, tossing a small smile in her direction. "That's better."

Lucy lightly laughed. "It's been a long time since I've had dinner by candlelight."

Wyatt smirked. "You mean Noah never made you a candlelight dinner?"

Lucy spread her napkin in her lap and picked up her fork. "Not for _me_. Maybe for the other Lucy." Wyatt scoffed and she suddenly felt defensive. "No, I could see him making a candlelight dinner though."

Wyatt raised his eyebrows as he took a forkful of spaghetti and twirled it around, mouthing the word, 'O-Kay.'

She rolled her eyes as she took her first bite of his infamous pasta. He watched as her expression changed from one of caution to disbelief and wonder. "Wow! _Wy-att_! This is amazing!" She shook her head. "I can't believe you made this."

He took a bite of his own and winked at her. "I can do a few things pretty well."

She wasn't prepared for the blush and chill that suddenly overtook her. She cleared her throat and took a sip of her wine. "So, Christmas Eve Texas spaghetti, huh? Is that a thing?"

"It is in Texas. Well, at least it was for me."

Lucy allowed the conversation to hang, not wanting to push him further on possible delicate family matters. Apparently, he didn't want to say more about it, since he twirled his pasta around and continued eating. They were like that for a while, eating quietly in companionable silence, with an occasional glance and blush between them. The gentle Christmas music continued playing softly in the background, until she couldn't take it anymore.

"We had lasagna."

Wyatt stopped mid spaghetti twirl and stared at her.

"What?"

"Christmas. Mom always made lasagna." He nodded slowly in understanding, then continued eating. "So, we never had a traditional Christmas dinner either."

Wyatt stared at his plate, mindlessly playing with the pasta, twirling it, unwinding it, then repeating. "Yeah, it's been a long time since I've had a traditional…anything."

Lucy's heart sank. This wasn't the road she wanted to travel down tonight.

Or was it?

There was a conversation that needed to be had. Things that needed to be discussed. Sentiments finally brought out into the open, if only she could summon the courage to say them.

She took a deep breath as she set her fork down and grasped her napkin in her lap, a feeble attempt to steady herself.

"Wya—"

"Lucy, there's something I've gotta say."

She was a bit taken aback. And slightly nervous. She closed her eyes and prepared for whatever it was he could say.

"Okay."

It was Wyatt's turn to take a deep breath. He kept his head down as he spoke.

"I haven't spent Christmas with anyone since Jess. No one. Not even family. I just…can't. But…" He paused and looked up at an ever hopeful Lucy.

"But?"

He smiled and reached for her hand, taking it in both of his.

"But…this last year and the last couple of days have…well, they make me want to spend Christmas with someone again." He ran his thumb along the back of her hand, sending shivers throughout her. "They make me want to spend Christmas with _you._ "

She placed her other hand on top of his.

"Wyatt…"

"No, Lucy. Just let me get it out." She nodded once, giving permission. He took a breath. "Lucy, you…you've thrown me for a loop. I never expected anyone to make me feel anything close to what I felt for Jess. Then I met you and…I'm still not sure what I'm feeling, but..I know I want to figure it out."

Lucy glanced down, sighed, and smiled.

"Wyatt, I -" She paused, shifted in her chair and held his hands tighter in hers. "I feel the same way. I want to see where this could go, but…"

He smirked. "But?"

Her mouth turned down and Wyatt's stomach dropped. Lucy looked from her napkin to the wall and kitchen, and back down, a vain attempt to find the strength to admit the rest.

"But I'm terrified you'll never fully be able to move on from her." Wyatt slightly pulled back, but Lucy held on to his hands. She spoke softer. "I just want to be sure you're ready. That we're both ready."

Wyatt leaned closer to her.

"I don't think we'll know until we try, Luce. No one is ever really ready for anything."

Lucy sighed.

"I know, but…I just don't want to let myself fall and then realize I jumped without a parachute."

Wyatt scrunched up his face.

"Are you saying you want a backup plan?"

Lucy closed her eyes and shook her head, trying to find the right words.

"No, that's…not what I meant." She took a deep breath. "I don't..want to be halfway to the ground and realize that I'll always be competing with Jess." Wyatt's jaw clenched. Lucy leaned in. "Please see it from my perspective. I mean, will you still try to save her even if we're together? Or what if we unknowingly do something on a jump and come back to find her alive but you and I are already together? I just…I want to know that you're all in with this. With _us_."

Wyatt swallowed, glanced down, and nodded. He knew. He'd already considered all of those scenarios, as well as several others.

"Those are all very valid questions, Lucy. But here's another. Do you trust me?"

She tilted her head and sighed.

"You know I do."

"Then this is no different from any other time you've trusted me."

Lucy quickly stood releasing his hands. She ran a hand through her hair in frustration, and turned away from him.

"We're talking about feelings here, Wyatt. Not guns." She scoffed at herself and lowered her voice. "Guns would be easier. Less messy."

Wyatt stood and reached for her shoulder, turning her back around to face him as she folded her arms defensively against her chest.

"Relationships aren't meant to be spotless all the time. They're messy. Love is messy. But…" He reached for her hand again, causing her arms to unfold. She smiled a tiny smile.

"But?"

He took her hand and placed it on his chest, just above his heart.

"It's also the best thing about living. When you find someone you care about, someone that you might even…love…you fight for them. No matter what."

Lucy froze. Her breaths quickened and her mouth went dry.

"Wha-? Wyatt. Are you saying…that…I mean…do you…Wyatt, do you…?"

He smiled, cupping her face, his thumb rubbing tiny circles on her cheek.

"Possibly…ma'am."

She could feel the butterflies and their hopeful little wings fluttering throughout her insides. She huffed out a shaky breath and smiled lovingly up at him as she spoke in a voice only for him.

"Me, too."

Wyatt smiled, pulling her close and giving her a soft kiss on her forehead.

"Wait here."

He turned and headed to his bedroom, but quickly returned with a small box. Lucy lit up. She walked to the sofa and retrieved a small box of her own. Even in the dim candlelight, Lucy could see that Wyatt seemed genuinely surprised. They awkwardly exchanged the tiny gifts with a laugh. Lucy motioned to the box in his hand.

"You first."

Wyatt quickly tore back the paper and opened the box. His smile quickly faded when he saw the pearl handled knife from the jewelry store window.

"Lucy. This is…" He looked up at her, tears welling in his eyes. "Thank you. You shouldn't have. But, thank you."

She smiled and stepped closer to him, placing a hand on his arm.

"I wanted to. Besides, it really _is_ a pretty knife."

He nodded slowly and picked up the knife, admiring it.

"It is. But it's more than that." Lucy tilted her head in question. He resigned. "My grandpa Sherwin had one just like it. Got it in Europe during the war. He gave it to me when I was a kid but…I lost it."

She smiled softly, glad to know the story, but smirked at the possibilities of how he could have lost it.

"During those wreckless hothead teenage years?"

He laughed. "Something like that." He paused and motioned with his chin. " Open yours."

Lucy ran her finger over the silky satin red ribbon and gold wrapping paper. She pulled one end of the ribbon and removed it, then tore the paper and slowly opened the box. She gasped when she saw the diamond and blue topaz snowflake necklace.

"I thought this had been sold!" Wyatt scrunched his brow. "When I was buying your knife, the store clerk got a call from someone and removed this from the window."

Wyatt smiled sheepishly and pointed to himself. "Someone."

Lucy laughed. "Well, at least we know we pay attention to each other."

Wyatt smirked. "Let's not get carried away." She gently slapped him on the arm and feigned hurt. "Okay, your turn. Why this necklace? Out of everything else in that jewelry store, why this?"

Lucy grimaced.

"Amy." It came out softer than she meant. "She had one. Mom gave it to her the same time I got my locket. Amy loved snow." She smiled sadly at the memory as tears formed at the corners of her eyes. She wiped at them as Wyatt reached for her napkin on the table, handing it to her. She thanked him with a small smile and dabbed at her eyes. Wyatt pulled her into a hug. They stood like that for a while, until, "Why don't you have a Christmas tree?"

He tensed. "I…can't. I haven't. Not since…"

Realization hit her.

Jess.

"Oh."

"Yeah. Like I said, I haven't spent Christmas with anyone since her." He took a deep breath and pulled Lucy a tiny bit closer. "I…Lucy. You…this year…" She looked up at him and grinned.

"I'm rubbing off on you."

He winced and laughed. "Exactly. That's what I'm trying to say." He cupped her face, causing her to gasp. "Lucy, you're bossy and stubborn and irritating-"

"Gee, am I blushing?" She smirked.

He smiled and shook his head.

"But you're also intelligent and kind and beautiful." She leaned into him, burying her face against his chest.

They stood there, holding each other, enjoying the moment and swaying softly to the slow Christmas tune winding down in the background. Then, Tony Bennett's voice drifted through air around them.

 _Christmas future is far away_

 _Christmas past is past_

 _Christmas present is here today_

 _Bringing joy that will last_

Wyatt pulled away suddenly and turned, intent on changing the song. Lucy reached her hand out.

"No, it's okay."

Wyatt slowly turned back to her and raised an eyebrow.

"Are you sure…?"

"Yeah." She reached for his hand, taking it in hers and threading her fingers through his. "Somehow…it doesn't seem so sad anymore."

He cocked his head. "No?"

She pulled him closer. "No. Hopeful, maybe. But, not sad."

 _Through the years we all will be together_

 _If the Fates allow_

Wyatt stepped closer to her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Merry Christmas, Lucy."

"Merry Christmas, Wyatt."

She wrapped her arms around him, laying her head on his shoulder as he held her tightly, one arm around her waist, the other around her back. They swayed softly in the candlelight, a tight grip on one another, never wanting to let go of all the possibilities.

It'd be a while before those possibilities were realities. But the next year, Wyatt definitely had a Christmas tree.


End file.
